


chocolate

by zayner



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: And I've never written any fluff really, Fluff, Halloween AU, I got bored, M/M, Six really, but yeah, five things, i honestly don't know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-29
Updated: 2013-10-29
Packaged: 2017-12-30 19:26:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1022499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zayner/pseuds/zayner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>The lad got it this time, offering him a wide grin, dimples noticeable even in the dark. “I'm Harry.”</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  <em>“Zayn,” he returned, voice slightly louder due to the music. “I like your costume.”</em></p><p> </p><p>  <em>Harry looked down at his clothes, plucking at the sweater before looking back up. “Thanks, I like yours, too. But, I've seen about a million vampires here tonight, already.”</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	chocolate

**Author's Note:**

  * For [robynhood](https://archiveofourown.org/users/robynhood/gifts).



> I wanted to write a Zarry for Halloween, and I had some free time today, and out of complete boredom, I wrote this. Don't panic about Your Touch, I haven't forgotten about it. It's still in progress, but for now, hopefully you'll enjoy this. This is for Robyn, my own personal yank. Happy Halloween!

He wasn't looking forward to this, not one bit. Looking at himself, he knew he'd get shit for going as a vampire. But, it was last minute, and Doniya helped him whip it up. Well, she decided it, while he took the clothes she told him to put on, and stood there while she did his make up. Make up. He would have much rather gone trick-or-treating with Danny and Ant, but they were down their Dad's for the weekend, so his Mum told him that he should go out with Doniya for the night, instead of staying in and watching scary films. He really didn't see what was wrong with doing that, but he agreed, because he didn't want to go to his Aunt's with Waliyha and Saf for the night. He was old enough to stay home alone, fifteen was a suitable age, he'd done it a million times before, but something about Halloween got his Mum worried. So, here he was with a too pale face, smudged with black in the natural hallows of his face. He looked over his sisters outfit while she worked, sat on the end of her pink duvet.

“You're not wearing much,” he drawled, nose scrunching as he got some of the cheap, white face paint in his mouth.

Doniya rolled her eyes,working on the blood from his mouth, warning him 'not to lick his bloody lips so much', before snorting, because that was her idea of a joke. He mimicked the eye roll, fingers linked together.

“Do I have to go? I'm not gonna know anyone there.”

“I'm not leaving you here, because if Mum finds out, then I won't be allowed out again for two weeks, and I've got Shell's party next week. You're coming.” She used the gel he'd brought her on his hair, slicking it back so hard that it hurt and he could see the skin under his eye for a moment.

Next thing he knows, he's got too big, plastic teeth in his mouth, digging into his bottom lip. He leaned over the bed, listening to the springs creak as he gazed at his appearance. The childish part in his mind wondered if he'd actually be there, before he shook that away with an 'idiot'. He looked utterly ridiculous, and he wondered if this was a joke. If Don had done it for a laugh, to take the almighty piss out of him. But, then she was wiping her fingers on a make up wipe, pushing her feet into some red, sparkly heels.

“What are you meant to be, again?” He asked, muffled and slurred by the teeth, already beginning to fall out. He pushed his fingers up against his teeth, the harsh cut edge digging into the top of his gums.

“I'm Dorothy?” She said, eyes narrowed towards him before rolling them and pulling open her bedroom door, muttering how idiotic he could be. He shrugged it off, and followed her out, his ridiculous cape catching on the door handle.

He looked at each house as they walked towards the party, frowning as groups of trick-or-treaters lined up to take their turn. He hated Danny and Ant a little bit.

Once they were finally there, he blinked in surprise, looking at the large house, covered in fake cobwebs and decorated with stickers, gravestones, bats and pumpkins. There were even a few people standing around the front garden pretending to be zombies, and he may have huddled slightly closer to Doniya, before being shoved back with a fleeting 'wimp'. A girl in angel wings answered the door, instantly grinning as she saw his sister, before it dropped when her eyes fell on him.

“Who's the kid?”

“My little brother, my Mum made me bring him. Just ignore him.”

He stood there, unable to speak or smile to the girl. Not that he would either way, so maybe these fake teeth weren't so bad. He had a motif to why he didn't have to talk to anyone for the rest of the night. He followed his sister in, giving the angel one last look, before his eyes were drawn into the huge party, his ears instantly popping from the blaring music. It wasn't his idea of good music, it was all in the charts. He swallowed thickly, eyes watering from the large amounts of spoke floating from each room, making the strobe lights and lasers appear more apparent. He opened his mouth to say something, but his sister was already walking away, leaving him in the middle of the doorway, completely trapped between each room. His fingers tensed, already feeling the heat gather on the back of his neck. Places like these weren't his idea of fun. People outside of his friends. Everyone here was older than him. Danny probably would have known a few people in here, but even that was a push. He licked his lips, the hot atmosphere already getting to him. His nose scrunched immediately, tasting the mixture of tacky blood and that awful white, face paint.

“Nice teeth.”

He turned his head, eyebrows raising at the sight of another boy around his age, dressed as Where's Wally, with the stripped shirt, hat and the black rimmed glasses.

“Nice glasses,” he tried to reply, coming out completely muffled. The boy's eyebrows raised, having clearly not gotten what he'd said. He reached up to touch his teeth, turning his head to pull them out, because there would no doubt be strings of saliva from his lips to the artificial fangs. There was, and it was pretty gross. He turned back, wiping the back of his hand over his mouth, feeling the back of his neck burn slightly. “Nice glasses,” he repeated, more clearly now.

The lad got it this time, offering him a wide grin, dimples noticeable even in the dark. “I'm Harry.”

“Zayn,” he returned, voice slightly louder due to the music. “I like your costume.”

Harry looked down at his clothes, plucking at the sweater before looking back up. “Thanks, I like yours, too. But, I've seen about a million vampires here tonight, already.”

He looked around, already spotting a few, some with way more effort then his, and others with none at all. One guy simply had a cape on top of his regular clothes. “My sister picked it out for me.” God, that sounded lame.

Harry didn't seem to care, though, simply grinning again, before beginning to walk off. He remained where he was, feeling slightly disappointed that that was it; that was probably the most he was going to interact to anyone tonight. “You coming?” His head turned to see Harry standing by what he presumed was the kitchen, thumb pointed behind him. He quickly nodded, following after the lad.

Harry grabbed two bottles of what looked like WKD from the fridge, opening them both and handing him one. He found out that his sister had brought him along, too, and he was glad to see Zayn had come. Harry's family was down here to visit his Stepdad's family, and his sister Gemma had a few friends down here, and was seeing one of the guy's who attended the school he went to, telling him how he knew of him. He was a little disappointed that Harry didn't live down here, because he could see them becoming friends. He told his own story, about how he lived down here, and his Mum had made him come here with his sister.

“What is she wearing?” He asked, looking around to see if he could spot her out.

“Red shoes, blue dress and holding a basket. She's supposed to be Dorothy.”

Harry's eyebrows pulled together, looking back at him. “Who's that?”

He instantly started laughing, telling him that he didn't know, either.

 

\---

 

“I can't see anything with this eye patch on.”

“Suck it up, Zayn. No, keep it on, don't try and take it off.” Doniya smacked his hand, whacking his nose in the process.

“I don't understand why I have to come this year, I'm sixteen, I'm allowed to stay home.”

“Not according to Mum you're not.”

He frowned, shoving his hands into his pockets, teeth beginning to chatter from the cold air. At least last year he had layers on, this year he was in short sleeves and cut off trousers that Doniya had cut for him. He'd gotten a little taller since last year, close to reaching Doniya's height; about half an inch off. This year, she was the one dressed as the vampire, and she was showing too much skin for his liking. He didn't need to see that much bare skin, especially not on his sister of all people.

He swore the house was twice as foggy this year, feeling as if the smoke was clinging to his skin. He was standing in the garden with Doniya while she waited for her friends, claiming she didn't want to stand alone. He complied, obviously, but he'd soon be the one on his own, freezing his balls off.

“There they are,” she rushed out, barely finishing the sentence before she was hurrying across the yard, over to the bobbing apple station. He sighed, pushing himself up to sit on the brick wall, swinging his feet.

“Nice eye patch.” He turned his head, looking behind him, spotting Harry, of all people, walking towards him, a drink already in his hand this time.

He couldn't help but grin, because he hadn't expected him to be back this year. He was dressed as the Joker from Batman.

“Nice... Face?” He offered, watching him as he climbed up onto the wall. He looked awesome, his tightly wound curls had been brushed out, and sprayed green, wearing the traditional Joker make up and the purple suit. “You look wicked.”

Harry beamed, taking a sip of what looked like Smirnoff Ice, before offering him the glass bottle. “You, too. I've never seen a vampire turn into a pirate.”

Zayn laughed, almost choking on the drink. “What happened to Wally? Is he in disguise? Or did he get fed up of no one finding him, so he went mental.”

It was Harry's turn to laugh, and he found his own lips pulling up into a grin. He had a contagious laugh. He knew his joke wasn't even that funny, but it made his chest swell with pride because he'd managed to make the other boy laugh.

“I'd like to think that Wally decided to give up the life of trying to be found, and became a villain instead.”

Zayn nodded, taking another sip before handing it back. “That sounds cooler.”

 

\---

 

Next year, he didn't go with Doniya. He went with a couple of his friends. He uses the term 'friends' lightly, because he was just one of the many that had decided to go with them. He was only going to see Harry, and was a little too happy to see the younger lad.

“You've gotten taller since I last saw you,” he commented, eyes now gazing up a little to meet the green pair. He'd also lost the weight in his face, and everywhere else it seemed. He'd slimmed down a lot over the year, and looked lanky rather than chubby. Harry didn't seem to recognise him at first, staring down at him, trying to pick up the voice. He laughed, before pulling the mask from his face, hair no doubt a complete mess. “It's me, Peter Parker.”

The look on his face made his chest grow tight for a second, as if he'd been waiting for Zayn to turn up all night. He had been standing on his own, looking around every now and then, and that made his chest grow even tighter. He looked in slight shock, his eyes searching his face. He probably looked different since last year. He'd gotten taller. He was the tallest in his family now, but still not as tall as Harry, clearly.

“Zayn,” he greeted, before pulling him into a hug. He was a little surprised, but he returned it none the less. “Who would have thought the pirate would change his ways, and decide to help people instead.”

He laughed, pulling back from the hug, looking over his friend's costume. The 'VOTE FOR PEDRO' shirt told him everything he needed to know, and he couldn't help but laugh harder, because that was brilliant. “So, we've gone back in time? This is Wally back in his school years, before he turned into the Joker.”

Harry nodded, fixing his glasses. “He had a hard life, you can see where he rebelled.”

His eyes wondered over the taller lad's face, noticing how his cheekbones were now more noticeable, and his curls weren't as tightly wound as they had been two years ago. They were pretty thick, and swept over the expanse of his forehead. Softer looking, and he had the overwhelming urge to reach up and touch them.

Zayn grinned, smacking Harry on the back, nodding towards the kitchen. “C'mon, Dynamite. Spider-man will grab you a drink if you promise to teach him some of those sick moves, because I can't dance for shit.”

The younger lad all but smirked, following behind him, and Zayn may or may not have felt his stomach tighten at the hand splayed against his back as they walked to the kitchen.

 

\---

 

It wasn't bad that he was going just to see Harry, was it? Turning up to a party on his own, just to see someone he only gets to see once a year. Nothing out of the ordinary. He didn't try really hard this year. No, of course not. He didn't read 'American Psycho' just so he could turn up as Patrick Bateman. That would be ridiculous. He didn't dress up as Bateman because it was Harry's favourite book.

Except that he had. He'd done all of those things. He'd bought the stripped shirt, tie, trousers and suspenders. It'd made a dent in his bank account, but he wanted to impress his friend. He'd watched the film countless number of times, and took the book with him in his bag any time he had a long journey to tackle. He'd spent an hour making sure his hair was perfect; stylishly slicked back, and wore the practically identical sunglasses. RayBan's were a little out of his price range, but they looked the same, so it didn't matter.

An hour in, he didn't think Harry was going to arrive. He'd usually pop in around twenty minutes, and they'd spend the rest of the night together, talking about everything and nothing at all. So, when it hit ten, and he hadn't seen him, he decided on having a fag before leaving. As soon as he lit up, he decided he'd so a bit of people watching. His eye was immediately caught by a killer Iron Man costume that had just stepped through to the garden, completely decked out, the arc reactor light and everything. It was awesome, and looked like it'd cost the person a pretty penny. He loved Iron Man, it was his favourite superhero of all time, and maybe if he hadn't been so interested in impressing Harry, he may have done the same. But, the Iron Man was looking at him, and he raised an eyebrow, wondering if maybe he'd said something out loud. He tensed slightly at the person walked over to him, staring at him in silence.

Zayn didn't do well with strangers just randomly approaching him, it made him nervous.

“I never realised Bateman smoked or had a blonde streak through his hair.”

His heart felt as if it was about to give out, because he knew that voice immediately, muffled by the suit, but the slow drawl was there, none the less. He tried to calm his heart as the lad pulled off the helmet, revealing the face he's been waiting for all night. And, fuck, he'd gotten even taller, and even more defined in the face. His curls were pushed back in what looked like a head band, and if it'd been anyone else, he'd probably laugh, but on Harry, it looked utterly adorable.

“I never realised that Tony Stark wore head bands.”

Fuck.

Harry had come as Iron Man. His favourite superhero. His chest continued to race, and his stomach tightened, burned with the feeling to lean up and kiss him. Kiss Harry straight on the mouth.

This time there was no loud laughter, it was just smiles and eye contact. It was such a weird thing to experience, to see one person for one night every year for a few hours, and then have to wait another twelve months to see them again. You had to see the evolution every year, and it was a surreal feeling. But, completely worth the time.

“You look great, Zayn.”

Jesus. “You look really great, too. The costume is awesome.”

Harry looked down at himself for a moment, before looking back up to him, a lopsided grin on his face. He reached forward, and Zayn's heart felt as if it were about to give out because of how fast it was running. The shades were taken from his eyes, and he swear he saw the smile on Harry's face pull up an inch.

“I've been waiting for you,” he admitted after a beat of silence, dropping his cigarette on the floor, complete having forgotten about it.

The younger lad nodded, tucking his helmet under his arm, keeping a hold of the glasses. “Yeah, I had to drive and I got lost. Gemma's usually the one that drives here. I should probably get a SatNav for next time.”

He didn't know what made his heart race harder, the fact that Harry had admitted to coming here alone, or he'd already decided he was coming here next year.

 

\---

 

Zayn wondered if it was only a matter of time until he found himself pressed against the wall, the younger, yet taller lad towering over him, forearm pressed to the wall above his head, the other hand holding a can of beer. It was even strange how that had evolved. How a few years ago, it was cheap, sugary drinks, and now it was beer.

“Aren't you a little tall to be Tom Cruise?” But, fuck, he wasn't complaining. The Top Gun costume was really working for him, and Jesus, he couldn't stop looking at the way the material pulled taut aginst Harry's muscles. He seemed to develop more and more every year. He'd grown once again, and he'd filled out more. He had more muscle, and his curls no longer hung across his forehead, they were pushed back.

He was given that same lopsided grin, but this one was more devious, held something else behind it. “It's a shame you're dead, or I'd definitely kiss you.”

Even as he said it, Harry was leaning down, their bodies decreasing in distance. His face felt like it was burning, the air between them becoming more compacted and harder to inhale. In a matter of seconds, their lips were pressed together, soft and gentle and he could feel the face paint from his lips being transferred over to Harry's. This was strange. He'd never kissed another guy, but over the last four years, the idea had been playing around in his mind more and more. He was tempted to kiss the younger lad last year as they were saying goodbye again, but he thought better of it; he panicked, basically. This was perfect, though, and he'd be lying if he'd say he hadn't thought about it time and time again. So, now with Harry's lips actually pressed against his own, it felt almost normal. Like it really was only a matter of time.

His hand slid up Harry's chest, and to the back of his neck, giving himself leverage to deepen the kiss. He wasn't taking any chances. If he didn't get to see Harry again until next year, he needed something to keep him going through the long months. He slid his tongue lightly over the seam of the younger lad's lips, receiving a deep groan that had his stomach tightening before Harry's lips parted. He pulled the lad down closer to him, releasing a breath as their tongues slid together and their lips molded more around each other. He lost count of how long they kissed against that God damn wall, but when Harry pulled away and his lips were dark, paint smudged and bruised, all he wanted to do was lean back in and keep going for another hour or so.

But, must to his misfortune, Harry had to leave and pick up his sister from the train station. They kissed again, and again until they both had to pull back for breath. The younger lad knocked their forehead's together, before standing straight, his own hand hooking behind Zayn's neck to hold him still while he pressed a long, firm kiss to his forehead.

Then, he left without another word, and Zayn was just left to stand there and fucking pray for next year to hurry up.

 

\---

 

He really was willing to go out of his way to get to this fucking party. He'd left work early just to get home and change, and considering he'd moved out a couple months ago, he had to catch the bus back into town. He looked like a bit of a knob, really. Dressed as 'V' from V for Vendetta. But, he arrived, and he managed to make it there in alright time. But, he didn't make it to the door. He was yanked from behind, and his body suddenly pressed against something cold. A car, to be exact. He blinked in surprise, his mask hiding his sudden panic. But, then his body instantly relaxed, seeing exactly who it was that grabbed him, the same person who was smirking down at him, one large hand swallowing up his waist, with the other rested above his head.

He shook his head, heart racing as he shoved Harry in the chest. “Jesus Christ, Harry.” He took a deep breath, finding it hard from that little scare, but more so with the guy standing in front of him, who's fingers were pressing into his back. “How did you know it was me?” He asked, eyelashes catching on the holes in the mask every time he blinked.

“Because, no one in there is creative enough.”

His heart raced again, staring up at the younger lad, face painted into a skull, which looked unbelievable. It didn't hide how mature he looked, though. Matured, he should say. His jaw was strong, shoulders broad, and muscles clearly visible through the dark sweater he was wearing, bones patterned all over it.

Harry lifted off his hat, before hooking his finger under the mask, setting both items against the roof of the car. He watched him, watch him. How his eyes looked over his face, doing exactly what they both did every year, and witnessing the changes in each other. Five years they'd done this, and he'd be willing to do another five years, even for a few hours.

“I missed you,” he mumbled, leaning down until their forehead's were pressed together again, one large hand sliding along the side of his neck.

Zayn felt as if all the air had been sucked out of his lungs, his hand moving to grip Harry's hip, pulling him closer; the pair sharing air. “I missed you, too.”

Their lips pressed together, and it was just as intense as last year, if not more, desperate to hold onto each other for as long as they had. But, Harry was pulling away too soon for his liking, pressing kisses down along his cheek, and across his jaw, before resting his nose against his ear, temples pressing together. He could taste the face paint on his lips again, and the cool texture of it pealing off onto his temple as they stood like that.

“Come home with me,” Harry whispered after a moment. “I don't think I can wait another year to see you, again, Zayn.”

He nodded immediately, hand sliding up the small of the younger lad's back, desperate just to touch him. “Okay,” he agreed breathlessly, fingers clinching into the material of Harry's sweater. Their bodies were soon parting, just enough for Harry to open the car door for him, waiting before handing him his mask and hat, and closing it behind him. He watched the man walk around the front of the car, before sliding into the drivers seat, before seconds later pulling away, his hand reaching over to grab his hand and link their fingers together.

Zayn smiled, turning his head to watch the house disappear out of view, his heart racing, realising they hadn't even made it inside this year.

“We're missing out on the apple bobbing,” he commented after a moment, turning his attention to the younger lad, squeezing his hand tightly.

Harry laughed, turning his head to look at him for a moment, before returning his gaze to the road.

“Next year.”


End file.
